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Scam

I totally scammed my children the other day. Is that one of those things you tell yourself you're never going to do?? Mmm, I don't know. Still, I shouldn't be proud of it...yet I kind of am.

My children have become syrup snobs. Why, I really don't know. They're like Buddy the Elf when it comes to junk, they're just not picky about the source of their sugar...just as long as they get it.

But lately, the sugary syrup they douse their waffles with must be Log Cabin...or nothing at all.

I brought home Mrs. Butterworth's not long ago, a big 'ol bottle, because it's cheaper than Log Cabin and it was on sale and W had told me he had it at a friend's house and it was so delicious! Great, I thought, I'll treat them to something different. I mean, I like Log Cabin best and so that's what I buy, but I probably shouldn't foist my syrup preferences on them, right? A good mother would let them expand their taste horizons to the buttery wonder that is, apparently, Mrs. Butterworth's.

They hate it.

So now I have this large brown LADY popping her head out at me every time I open the pantry door. Mocking me. Because it was also the extra large size, and so she is taller than everyonething else in the pantry.

I run out of syrup frequently because I am continually surprised by the consumption rate of the stuff, and they keep moving it in the grocery store so I forget to buy it. Should it go with the breakfast foods? Or the coffee? Or in the spice and seasoning aisle????? I'm flaky enough that this never ceases to throw me off.

When we are out of syrup, I always offer up the old lady, but the resounding answer is always no. They'd prefer jelly or even DRY waffles (gasp) to the Missus.

The other day, I saw I was low on the LC. As in, not enough for one kid, much less three. Anticipating a battle of epic proportions, and not having had enough coffee to endure such a scene, I grabbed Mrs. B, opened her up and poured her contents into the Log Cabin bottle -- not too much, because it needs to be believable, but just enough to cover their Eggos.

My husband: "Seriously, WHAT are you doing? That's not going to work."
Me: "Watch." That is all.

Wouldn't you know, they ate it up. Dang! I wish I'd bet my husband...I could be $50 richer right now. OK, that never really works, but if it did....

You know, in the annals of parenting, these kinds of little white lies happen. I got lucky. When my parents tried to pass off eggplant parmesan as lasagna-with-regular-old-noodles, I didn't believe them. Luckily for my siblings and me, I found a worm that proved their trickery. Sure, I know that's not the only time they tricked me, but it was a nice victory and I didn't have to eat the eggplant.

Now my husband is worried about the cold, calculated-ness of my little lie. I reminded him that in the game of parenting, the kids seem to always win. You have to take victory where you can get it, darn it.